GuestBook
by the girl with knives
Summary: A cold night wasn't unusual for the American, nor was staying in overtime. He was quite used to it, being in a restaurant did have downsides. But his mind couldn't help but wonder onto the future that awaited him as he washed the dishes. What will happen?


**A/N: **

AU = Alternative Universe.

This is an AU.

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><p>The soft scribbles distracted the young American, until he got yelled at by a certain Brit. The yelling was normality for the American, so he paid no mind to the male. Oh, who are these people, you may ask? The American would be none of other than Alfred F. Jones, a writer in work. Of course, he wrote typical American stories or tales filled with heroes, cowboys, and perhaps knights. Fantasy was always a section that he enjoyed, but would never tell.<p>

The Brit was Arthur Kirkland, a possible writer in process as well. Mystery and fantasy seemed to be his favorite genes in books, so he mostly wrote about that. He takes time to learn about olden literate, Shakespeare for example. Often, he rereads his Sherlock Holmes collection, sinking in to the mystery that was such a guilty pleasure for him.

To say that they had a strained relationship was an understatement. Arthur and Alfred had had quite a bit of history together, complicated history. Since Alfred was a young child, Arthur took care of him. The reason why the Brit took care of Alfred was because of the sudden disappearance of his mother, seeing as the father wasn't anywhere to be found as well. Taking a sudden change in the Brit's life, Arthur tried his best to take care of the small child, spoiling him such.

But things got complicated once Alfred grew up. Thoughts of living by himself went through the American's mind, the thought of freedom very tempting to him. There were fights between the Brit and American, but it got resolved. In the end, Alfred did get to move into a house alone, and there were no injures between them, perhaps emotionally though. Though of their history, they love each other greatly (as family, of course) but wouldn't admit it to each other, pride is too much.

At the moment, both were in collage and worked in the same restaurant. This restaurant being an international food restaurant, Alfred helped himself to the foreign food once it was his break. Whenever the American pigged out, Arthur felt disgusted with himself. "_Hadn't he been shown and taught manors? Why does he refrain from using them? God, Americans,_" usually ran through his mind when seeing Alfred like that. To say that both men had different point of views was the truth. Alfred was more like the cowboy, a laid back cowboy while Arthur was a gentleman type of man, a gentleman with a different personality hidden.

Alfred worked as a waiter and sometimes as a cleaner in the restaurant, while Arthur took care of booking in people, being a cashier, and greeting. Having a charming smile for presentation, Arthur seemed perfect for his job, his gentleman personality wrapped up with a smile was perfect. On the other hand, Alfred could strike up a conversation with the costumers while they waited for their food easily. Both seemed like they fitted for their job, and that was well or else their boss would fire them.

"Hm? Oh, yeah," the American turned his head towards the Brit, a lazy smile upon his face.

"Well, aren't you going to attend the people waiting? You have a job to do."

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred rolled his eyes and walked towards the awaiting couple, a smile still there.

"Yo. I'm Alfred, I'll be your awesome waiter for the evening," he said, giving a cheesy bow. The group of girls let out muffled giggles and looked on with amused eyes. He asked the traditional, "What would you like this evening?" and wrote down their orders onto the small notebook and nodded.

"All right, expect your order to be here in a flash," and with another bow, Alfred turned back and walked towards the Brit.

"Here," he said, shoving the notebook at Arthur's face. Arthur replied with a shove and an annoyed, "What the bloody hell are you doing, git? You give this to the goddamn chef!"

A pout followed the whiney, "No need to be so mean, Eyebrows. Go brush your stinky teeth for once." A huff and Alfred stomped towards he needed to go, giving the order for it to be made by the chef. Alfred leaned against the wall, observing the restaurant in case that there were people that needed orders taken. It was all fine and dandy until sound came, from the stage, to be exact. Oh, did you not know there was a stage? There was, thank you very much.

A soft cough came from the Japanese looking man before he gave out a smile. This man was the owner of the business. What could he possibly want?

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><p><strong>AN:**

And it's a cut! Thank you for dealing with this story. Reviews and critics would be lovely, but you don't have to. If you haven't noticed, it's an AU, which I should mention somewhere in there. Anyways, I'm sorry if there was any OOC, since it's 11 pm and I'm tired as fuck. So, I shall be going now. I hoped you enjoyed!

Edit[!]:

**CHANGED USERNAME ** in 3/17/12


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